


Things Done in the Shadows

by sociallyawkward_fics



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23782897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociallyawkward_fics/pseuds/sociallyawkward_fics
Summary: Jaskier did what he always did: get himself in trouble by sleeping with the wrong person. And then, he dragged Geralt into it and left them with only one solution of getting out of this unscathed.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 30
Kudos: 322





	Things Done in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was one of the first Witcher oneshots I ever finished, almost directly after the show, and honestly it is weeks and WEEKS old because this was back when I was still too chicken to post any of my Witcher fics for fear of them being terrible lol. I went through and edited this one a bit (for once lol) and then decided it was good enough to post since I need to stop anxiously hoarding fics and actually post the things I finish lol. Hope y'all enjoy it!!
> 
> (also I always tag my things as "witcher all media types" because I'm working my way through the books and games as well so I feel like sometimes my characterizations meld together between the various types of media)

Jaskier knew this one was on him.

In his defense, he had been drunk and on another one of his “try and get over the idiot witcher you’re in love with” binges, but that didn’t really solve the situation as it was now.

Which just so happened to be sleeping with a person with a  _ very _ powerful and  _ very _ jealous spouse. They hadn’t even bothered to mention they were married beforehand! Not that that information tended to stop Jaskier  _ anyway _ , but now he was in deep trouble.

Jaskier raced through the streets as quickly as he could, but he knew the “friends” of the spouse were gaining on him. He also wasn’t  _ Geralt _ , and he could feel his stamina quickly waning. The men shouted behind him, waving weapons, and Jaskier tried to put on another burst of speed, but there was simply nothing left.

But speak -- or  _ think _ \-- of the devil, and he shall appear, because Jaskier saw Geralt turn the corner ahead of him, still bloodied and dirty from a job.

Geralt seemed to notice him a moment later, his expression shifting minutely to one of recognition. Then, immediately after, a less minute shift to an expression of exasperation. He watched Geralt’s lips form his name in that annoyed way of his, but it didn’t matter. Geralt showed up, Geralt was getting roped into it.

So Jaskier grabbed his arm as he ran past.

Jaskier knew Geralt was fully capable of resisting him. The man was built like a brick shithouse, Jaskier probably couldn’t forcibly move him even if he threw his entire weight into it. And frankly, he almost expected Geralt to stand his ground.

But Geralt allowed himself to be pulled along and jogged ( _ jogged _ , the  _ audacity _ , Jaskier was  _ sprinting _ ) alongside him.

“What did you do  _ now _ ,” Geratl growled.

“Oh, you know,” Jaskier said between gasps of breath. “A little of this, a little of that. The usual.”

Geralt growled, wordlessly this time, and grabbed him roughly by the arm. Jaskier yelped a protest, but Geralt ignored it, either not caring or not hearing (most likely the former, given his  _ witcher senses _ ). He practically carried Jaskier through the streets, racing through them and taking various twists and turns.

The sounds of the men behind them grew quieter, so Jaskier risked a glance back. They  _ were _ further away, thanks to Geralt’s speed and twisting path, but they were also  _ angrier _ . And angry was almost just as dangerous as too-close.

“Geralt!” He said.

Geralt grunted and took another sharp turn, nearly accidentally running Jaskier into a wall in the process.

Only now they were in a dark, spooky, dead-end alley with no escape.

“Shit,” Jaskier hissed.

The footsteps were growing nearer again, and not even Geralt seemed to know what to do, now. Seeing no other solution, Jaskier dragged them deeper into the alley, trying to hide in the shadows. He backed himself up against the furthest wall and pulled Geralt in front of his body, hoping his dark armor and cloak would hide Jaskier’s  _ colorful _ fashion sense. He quickly pulled Geralt’s cloak over his head to hide his blinding hair.

“They’re going to see us,” Geralt grumbled, moving in closer and practically pinning Jaskier to the wall as he glanced over his shoulder. “It’s only dusk. Shadows only do so much.”

“Well, what do we do, then?” Jaskier hissed.

Geralt just gave him a look. Practically his version of a shrug, if Jaskier interpreted it right, and Jaskier prided himself in being rather fluent in  _ Geralt _ , at this point.

The footsteps were too close, now, and Jaskier wasn’t keen on dying today. He was even less keen on risking Geralt having to injure or maim or  _ kill _ humans because Jaskier fucked up.

So he followed his instincts and did the only thing he could think of doing.

Which, admittedly, was a rather  _ stupid _ plan.

But Jaskier gripped Geralt by the hood of his cloak and dragged him in close. Geralt’s eyes widened just barely in surprise, but he had no time to protest or react before Jaskier was pulling him into a sloppy, bruising kiss that tasted like the blood that spattered Geralt’s body.

_ Oh, please forgive me for this _ , Jaskier prayed as their teeth clashed.

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and hoped beyond hope that the kiss looked real from the outside, like two lovers stealing a moment away from prying eyes. Really, he knew it was just an uncomfortable press of lips, and he was too chickenshit to make it anything else because he’d already  _ caught _ feelings for the emotionally constipated idiot, he didn’t need to make them  _ worse _ .

But apparently Geralt didn’t get the memo.

Still maintaining the kiss, Geralt gently took Jaskier’s hands in his own and pulled them off his hood so he could pull back slightly, softening the kiss. Jaskier made a soft, questioning noise, but relaxed against the wall and let Geralt lean into him, truly pinning him against the stone, now. 

Geralt dropped his hands once he relaxed, and they instinctively moved to touch him once more. One slid under his cloak to grip Geralt’s waist, cursing the armor blocking his touch and tugging the man into him. The other went up to thread into his hair, barely being aware enough to not knock the hood back off his head.

Jaskier angled his head a bit more, truly giving up, now. The barely-perceptible sigh that came from Geralt at the action, only detected because Jaskier  _ felt _ the stream of air leave Geralt’s nose against his cheek, made something inside him melt. If his feelings got worse after this, then his feelings got worse after this. He wasn’t going to get a chance like this, a chance to  _ kiss Geralt _ , again, so he might as well get the most out of it.

So Jaskier started putting his all into the kiss, all the tips and tricks he learned over the years with various lovers. He felt Geralt’s hands finally meet his body, one slithering around his back to arch him into Geralt, the other gripping his hip gently.

And the thing was… Jaskier didn’t expect Geralt to be so  _ gentle _ in his…  _ affections _ . The Geralt Jaskier knew yes, certainly had a soft side, but he was aggressive and crass and, frankly, rather rude. Geralt seemed like the kind of lover to come in with fire and heat, the kind of lover who would  _ ravish _ his partner, to leave them bruised and breathless and gasping for more.

But Geralt was soft and gentle. His grip wasn’t bruising, like Jaskier expected, and neither were his kisses. He wasn’t gripping Jaskier’s clothes so tightly he worried they ripped, in fact, it was nearly feather-light, allowing Jaskier to pull away the moment he chose to.

But Jaskier certainly wasn’t going to choose to do so  _ any _ time soon, if he could help it.

He opened his legs and tried to hook one of his ankles around Geralt’s to drag him closer. Geralt resisted for only a moment before he gave in and slid a thigh between Jaskier’s legs, leaning into him even more.

Jaskier groaned into Geralt’s mouth and decided  _ fuck _ the hood, flipping it off to get both of his hands into Geralt’s hair, despite how flithy it was. Geralt hummed and pulled back. Jaskier made a disappointed noise at the loss of contact, but Geralt’s lips almost immediately attached to his neck and the noise melted into one of pleasure.

Geralt’s lips pecked and nibbled and sucked gently, and Jaskier sighed and tilted his head back to give Geralt more room. Geralt was just starting to pull his chemise lower to get to his chest when--

“Damn bard,” someone outside the alley hissed. “We lost him.”

“Forget it,” another voice replied. “He’s not worth our time.”

Geralt slowly pulled back and Jaskier mourned the loss of heat, frowning. Geralt looked at him thoughtfully and reached out with a thumb to brush something off his jaw. Flakes of the blood that was drying and crusting all over Geralt’s face and clothes.

“You could use a bath,” Jaskier said, mouth suddenly dry despite the fact that he’d just had Geralt’s  _ very _ moist tongue in it moments ago.

“Hm,” Geralt said, looking Jaskier up and down. “ _ We _ could use a bath.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat.

He didn’t dare say another word, for once. He simply dragged Geralt off, trying to ignore how the witcher just  _ radiated _ smugness, and marched straight toward the nearest inn.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t need anymore “try and get over the witcher you’re in love with” binges after today.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought of it and validate me with some comments and kudos, if you feel so inclined! You can find me on tumblr at sociallyawkward--fics!


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